


Detroit

by vityamins



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Detroit, Multi, Phichit and Yuuri in drag, The skating fam strikes again, Viktor is shook, Yuuri and oc is brief and oc gets righteously dumped, but also fascinated, dressing up to sneak into a party, drunken antics, happened ages ago, there's a lot more to yuuri than meets the eye, wild college adventures, yakov is a disgruntled bystander, yuri is disgusted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-03-02 21:04:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13326330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vityamins/pseuds/vityamins
Summary: Everyone knows that Yuuri and Phichit were roommates for years, but let's face it - they didn't spend all their time skating.A snowed in group of skaters, a slightly drunken game of truth or dare and five years worth of stories from the infamous Yuuri Katsuki of dorm 3B.What could possibly go wrong?





	1. Truth or dare

The bus pulled up to a nondescript building in a less fashionable area of Toronto. Outdated and easily missable, it looked as if it had once been a hotel, but had since been thoroughly derelict for at least Yakov's entire career. It wasn't necessarily ramshackle, but tired in a way that forgotten buildings usually are. Hardly a place to house a handful of disgruntled figure skaters.

Christophe said it looked quaint. Yuri said it looked like the building version of Mila's last boyfriend. Mila said to piss off.

"Be grateful they found us somewhere," Yakov grunted, "between the hotel flooding and most places being booked up, we were almost sleeping at the rink."

After checking in and settling into their rooms, Yuri quite loudly decided to change his mind. Even Dmitri-from-moscow-who-sold-used-cars wasn't as miserable as this dump. 

"There's nothing to do."  
"There's signal!" Phichit piped up.  
"No wifi though..." said Viktor, frowning at his phone. "We're a bit out of the way here, aren't we?"  
"At least it's something," murmured Yuuri. "And it's only for a day or two."

A quick inspection of the painted corridors and 'old lady carpets' (Yuri was taking full advantage of Lilia's decision to find her own accommodation, along with a few other coaches) seemed to doom the next couple of days to lying around staring at peeling decor and wandering aimlessly. The only real attractive features of the place was that it served food and wasn't a foot deep in water.

So when everyone met downstairs for dinner, it was surprising that the Swiss skater was sporting a grin as wide as an ina bauer.  
Phichit quirked an eyebrow. "What's put you in such a good mood? Suddenly realise you love brown walls and wasted weekends in foreign countries?"  
He ignored the jibe. "Mon Amie, this place has a games room."  
"Oh, joy," spat Yuri, "Maybe they've even got a 1900's cribbage set as well, then the party can really get started."  
Chris tried again, undeterred, as if speaking to a toddler. "They have a games room, and I have half a bar of duty free with me."  
"Chris, why?"  
"Because, darling, I am amazing and tax in Europe is ridiculous. We have enough alcohol to drown Moscow and a room that you can't touch the walls of without moving. That's better than any of our rooms."  
Some looked sceptical, but Yuuri had noticeably perked up. "I've got Stranger Things season 2 on my laptop."  
His fiancé whined. "Zolotse, you said you werent watching that without me!"  
Yuuri shrugged.  
The little Thai skater's eyes twinkled dangerously as he put down his cutlery. "You know.... between the two of us, Yuuri and I know just about every drinking game under the sun..."  
"Phichit, no."  
"Phichit yes." Hissed Chris and the Thai in unison. Even Yuri looked a little bit on board. Yakov was frowning, however; a mumble about how Lilia wouldn't approve came from his direction.  
All he could really do was grumble, though, and so the skaters made their way to the promised games room.

Phichit quietly locked the door behind them.  
The room wasn't huge, but it looked a damn sight more comfortable that any of the other rooms had, whether the brown toned- well, everything - was warmed by the company or the clink of cheap spirit being pulled out of a suitcase. A basic looking fireplace took up most of one wall, and after a few light arguments and the inadvisable use of vodka as lighting fluid, soon everyone was sat around a roaring fire with a drink in hand.

"What should we play first?" asked Phichit. Everyone looked at each other except for Yakov, who looked at the bottom of his drink.This was going to be a long night.  
Chris took over, slapping his thighs, "Welp, truth or dare it is!"  
"Ugh, we're not teenage girls! Don't you have any better games?"  
"Yuri darling, I let you have big boy alcohol-"  
"YURI! YOU SAID IT WAS WATE-"  
"And so you can shut your gold medal winning mouth and embrace your inner tweenager. Viktor, truth or dare?"  
The platinum blond had clearly played this with Christophe before. He grinned.  
"Truth."  
"Viktor Nikiforov, you absolute coward-"  
"Mon ami, your dares are most definitely for after I have polished off a few bottles. Truth."  
Chris sighed, but resigned himself. "Alright... when are you and your little Japanese lovebird going to set a date? Long engagements aren't really your style..." he trailed off, eyebrows raised. Viktor grinned in return, smiling as he swirled the amber in his glass.  
"Well, I do have a reputation for surprising my audiences. We'll set a date when we feel like it." Eyes turned to Yuuri, who had gone a little more pink around the ears than could be blamed on alcohol and a roaring fire.  
"Hmm. Fine. Mila, truth or dare?" The redhead giggled.  
"Dare!"  
"Okay - see Viktor, she's not scared - I dare you to..." his eyes wandered around the room thoughtfully before falling on the icy window. "Put a snowball in your bra!"  
A groan made its way around their circle. "I know, I know, its positively tame - the good stuff will come later. Mila?"  
She had already made it to the window, cracking it open a little before scooping a handful of powder into the front of her shirt and sitting back down. "All done."  
"If any of my skaters take ill-"  
"Oh, leave it alone, Yakov. There's no point mother henning over us - I'm fine, see -"  
"Yakov!" Chris's dangerous smirk returned.  
"No."  
"Truth or dare -"  
"Nyet."  
"There's no duty free for grumps." The blond waved a bottle to highlight his point.  
"...truth."  
"Who was the cutest as a child? I want a full description. Paint a picture for us!" The old man seemed relieved; he trusted the Swiss skater about as far as his aged, brittle back could throw him.  
"Easy. Mila." She grinned triumphantly while Viktor started whining. "Enough of that. Vitya, you were pretty, but a pain in the ass. Yura, I'm convinced you were a born nuisance, and Georgi had that God awful bowl cut for years - no idea what his mama was thinking..."  
"I didn't like that question."  
"Shut up, has been. Yakov, tell us more about the bowl cut!" Yuri looked suspiciously like he was recording, or at the very least making notes on his phone.  
"If you want that, it will have to wait until next turn."  
Yuri's face fell while Chris moved on with the game.  
"Otabek?"  
He shrugged.  
"Fine, dare. I don't think I actually know enough about you to think of an interesting truth, sorry."  
He seemed unperturbed.  
"Ooh!" Phichit interrupted, "I dare you to give Yurio your jacket for the next round!"  
"Ugh, don't even -" the leather jacket was over Yuri's shoulders in an instant, effectively silencing him.  
"Phichit darling, truth or dare?" The Thai boy thought for a minute. The game was catching on, each face was glowing in the firelight, eager for the next question - or at least vaguely interested.  
"Truth." Chris let out a low whistle.  
"A dangerous game, mon amie. Hmm..." he glanced around, eyes lingering on the boy's best friend perhaps a little too long, "Tell us about Detroit. I hear American spring breaks are scandalous. What did you two find to occupy your free time?"  
"Well-"  
"We had to skate during the holidays as well, Chris." Yuuri interrupted, "between that and visits home, we didn't have that much ti-"  
"Yuuri Katsuki! Are you forgetting that you never went home in the five years you were in Detroit? Or are you just trying to worm away from me telling everyone about the summer we do not speak of?"  
"We don't speak of it for a reason, Phi, we-"  
" Oh, boo. Im sick of keeping it between us. Well, us and those hockey players. And the hotel staff. And the Massachusetts police force. Did you know you can get banned from entering certain states? Just like restaurants. I'm pretty sure we wouldn't be able to drive from Boston to New Mexico without a few federal pardons and a healthy stack of bribe money..." he let that soak in, the little shit, as the group stared. Most of them looked disbelieving, but it seemed that they'd all had enough alcohol to at least cushion the shock.  
The fire popped. Yuri jumped.  
“Police?”  
“Oh my God, Katsudon. Spill, now.”  
Yuuri flicked his eyes around the room,resigning himself to the idea that nobody was going to let it go. He necked the liquid left in him glass and waved it at Chris. He dutifully refilled it.  
“Okay,” he sighed, “Maybe we spent a little less time skating than I said. And a little more time… partying.”  
“Oh no. Oh hell no. Partying doesn't anywhere near cover it. We jumped of a bridge and streaked through-”  
“Um, excuse me? I thought I was telling this story.” The Japanese skaters words were slurring slightly as he picked up some courage. The group waited impatiently.  
“So. I guess the trouble really started when we got accused of robbing a Denny’s on 4th Street in Indiana… and it only got worse from there.”  
“You mean better.”


	2. The beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I'm so sorry it took so long, but college is crazy. The next chapter should be up waaaay quicker.
> 
> Please excuse any errors (I have no beta and wrote most of this at 2am) but feel free give any constructive criticism or feedback in the comments.
> 
> Lastly, I'm looking for suggestions for names for  
> a) a fictional male celebrity  
> b) his fictional band  
> I'll use whatever I like best, so if he ends up as Boaty McBoatface from the telitubbies then so be it :D

Writing an essay was kind of difficult with your Thai roommate and three of his beloved hamsters draped over your legs. Yuuri was starting to get cramp in his legs, and he hadn’t even finished the introduction.  
“Phi, could you get up for a minute? My feet are cramping up.”  
Phichit acquiesced. “You still writing?”  
“Yep.”  
“Bummer.”  
“Mmhm.” Yuuri tried to ignore his friend, focusing on the screen of his laptop whilst pretending not to notice how hard Phichit was trying to act casual, and how hard he was failing.  
“When’s that even due in for? You don’t have any more seminars until September, right? Do you really have to-”  
“Yeessss.” Phichit pouted. The clock ticked, but the keys of the Japanese skater’s laptop remained still.  
“It doesn’t look like you’re getting to far with it.”

Yuuri gave him a pointed look, eyebrows raised. He was only too aware of what Phi had in mind, and it didn’t include getting on with any college work. Summer fever had just broken out in Michigan; most students were planning on or had already head down to Cancun or Florida. Never mind sun, sea and sand; most of them were busy looking forward to a summer of strangers, sex and sambuca. And Yuuri wanted no part in it.

“You know,” Phi began, “I was texting Brandon the other day. Some friends of his are thinking about going down to Orlando for Spring break.”  
“Good for them.” Yuuri murmured. He ignored the little part of his brain that told him that the screen of his laptop really wasn’t at all interesting. The two of them had to keep skating during the holidays, they couldn’t drop everything to go on some alcohol fueled sexcapade across the country. Could they?  
“Nothing major,” Phichit continued, unphased by his roommate’s quips, “just a few friends, a few kegs, and a couple of days by the coast. It sounds fun.”  
It did sound fun. Kind of. But… they couldn’t Yuuri took it upon himself to act the responsible adult.  
“Celestino wouldn’t let you.”  
“Ciao Ciao just told me it would be fine.” He waved his phone in the other skater’s face. “We’re gonna have so much fun!”  
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait.  
“What do you mean we?”  
All his concerned look earned him was an eyebrow raise.  
“I’m not-”  
“Sure you are! You have to look out for me, remember? So you have to go.” Phichit grinned. Yuuri bet he had already packed, the minx.  
“...fine.”  
“Yay! Come on, we leave tomorrow morning and still have to get the alcohol. Good job I already packed our things…”  
“Wait. You're 19. You can't even drink yet… Phichit!”

-o-

“FUCKING RUN!”  
Hot tarmac beat beneath Yuuri’s toms. He'd wanted to wear proper shoes, but his roommate-  
No. No time. God, how had that even happened? He knew he couldn't rely on that crowd not to run their mouths. Phichit passed him, laughing as they ran - sprinted - a leather clad group of unshaven men in their late twenties hot on their heels. Wow. This kind of felt like a tape scratch ‘I bet you're wondering how I got into this mess’ moment; the only problem being that the skater had absofuckinglutely no idea.

-o-

Yuuri prodded his stack of pancakes thoughtfully with a fork from the relative safety of a booth. Sure, Denny’s had a really weird social media presence, but at least the food wasn't as odd as its Tumblr.  
From his shady booth in the corner, he had a pretty good view of the whole diner. At three in the morning, there wasn't much of a rush; a tired looking family on a road trip pit stop, a group of what looked like bikers, wearing an aggressive amount of leather, an eccentric gentleman who insisted on calling all the staff 'miss' (even the male ones) and a few patrons scattered about that seemed too nondescript to be anything but regulars. This whole 'road trip to Florida' thing was turning out to be pretty boring... Especially since Phi decided the two of them were much better off without the rest of their travelling companions.  
And told the lot of them to piss off with his fists.

-o-

"Whoa- hold on," Yuri stopped the Japanese skater's story in its tracks, almost snapping the rest of the enraptured audience out of their awed stupor, "why did Chulanont fight wotsisface?"  
In lieu of an answer, Yuuri turned to his ex-roommate, who tossed his head back like a preening peacock.  
"It became apparent that that asshole only wanted a cheap lay for spring break," he spat, "and I am a luxury few can afford. So I took his hands out of my pants and told him to shove them up his own ass."  
"And then you tried to push the guy's head up there as well."  
Phichit sniffed indignantly, "He already had his head up his ass. I was just making sure he didn't come near mine."  
"Pun inten-"  
"Yuuri, you know me. The pun is always intended."  
Chris gave a low whistle. Mila looked impressed. Viktor looked... proud?  
"Oi! Katsudon! Back to the story."  
"Well..."

-o-

Phichit slid back into his booth seat beside Yuuri, pulling a little packet out of his jacket and arranging it on the table.  
"Where did you get-"  
"Some guy over there said I looked like I needed a smoke."  
"Biker type?"  
"Stereotypical much?" Phichit raised one eyebrow; a skill his roommate was yet to master. "But yeah. Red and white bandana. Broken nose."  
Yuuri glanced over to the group on the other side of the diner. The man in question winked at him.  
"Why did you take them? It's not like we're going to smoke them."  
"Why not?" Looking at the older skater's face, Phi quickly changed his tune. "I mean, we could just try one, for a picture!" Yuuri still didn't look impressed.  
"Cigarettes don't look cool in photos, Phi, cigarettes kill people. You're an athlete, for God's sake, this is the type of thing that ruins that! And what would Ciao Ciao say?"  
"Too late."  
The Thai skater grinned as he flicked on a disposable lighter from out of nowhere. It had the American flag on it and a badly photoshopped picture of an eagle in a bandana, so Yuuri felt he could safely bet it had come from the same place as the cigarettes.  
"Phi! No!" Yuuri hissed through his teeth. This was going too far. Could you even smoke in a Denny’s? He bet not. In retaliation, Yuuri batted at the lit cigarette. It flew out of Phichit's grabbing hands and landed in a plant pot beside the booth, amber glow buried by soil and foliage. The friends glared at each other.  
"Happy now?"  
"It's one cigarette! And I wouldn't have actually smoked it, just posed for some grungy selfies." Phichit grumbled, sliding back in his seat and crossing his arms petulantly. "Anyway, you gonna just leave it there? It needs to go in an ashtray."  
Yuuri rolled his eyes. "There isn't an ashtray. This is a national chain diner, not a bar."  
"Well, it can't stay in the plant pot."  
"Why not?"  
"Because I'm 99% sure that's a fire hazard."  
The words 'it'll be fine' didn't even have the chance to quite form in the Japanese man's mind, let alone his mouth, before the smell of burning hit his nose. The two of them turned to the potted plant, which had turned out not only to be fake, but also made of a frighteningly flammable mix of nylon.  
"Shit, shit shit shit!" Whipping his head round the sleepy diner, Yuuri desperately searched for anything to put out the flaming tree.  
It seemed that such things were in short supply, especially in a a roadside diner.  
WHUMPH!  
The fire had climbed the thin trunk (which was noticeably melting) and flared up to the dense head of nylon leaves at the head of the plant. Phichit slammed his hands on the sticky table, wide eyed. A mutual 'the fuck do we do now?' flance passed between the two of them. Heart racing, it was Yuuri who decided to take action.  
"Quick, help me!" He grabbed at the pot. "We need to get it outside!" With no better options, they hoisted the flaming foliage and started towards the door. Suddenly, the fire flew up again as a new patch of branches caught. Heat and smoke filling their faces, the pair momentarily froze to cough.  
RRINNNGGGGG! RRINNGGGGG! RRINNGGGGG! RRINNGG-  
"RUN!" Phi lept into action as the suddenly very surprised patrons of the roadside Denny’s became absolutely soaked by the sprinkler system, almost completely obscuring their view of the two students and flaming shrubbery.  
Finally, the pair made it out of the door.  
“Phi?! What the fuck do we-” the thai boy's eyes blazed as bright as the flaming pot plant in his arms.  
“TOSS IT!”

They say that when the bloodstream becomes flooded with adrenaline, the brain processes things much quicker - making it seem as if the world is in slow motion. Usually these moments seem right out of a movie; exploding cars barrelling across the silver screen, a ten storey building going up in flames…  
But none could compare to the pure poetry in motion of a flaming artificial bay laurel topiary tree soaring across that Denny’s parking lot, finally free of all worry, fear and pancake grease. Noble as any great bird of prey, she flew up, up and over a Ford fiesta, rolled over any unsuspecting Chevy, and finally came to rest, plant pot shattering, in the middle of six perfectly positioned motorbikes.

Big motorbikes. With more bandanas tied to the front.

Ooh… big firey motorbikes. Maybe they were made of nylon too.

A moment of blank incomprehension was shared between the two skaters. Yuuri though he was going to be sick. A startled employee in a drenched black polo pushed his way outside.  
“HEY! You can't take the-”  
Alas, it was too late. Two pairs of toms were already smacking against the tarmac, some hundred metres ahead.

-o-

Even with the fire crackling away (and turning Yuuri’s cheeks a lovely rouge), the silence was deafening. It was unbearable to the Japanese skater, who desperately broke it; “So… yeah.”  
“But you weren't really accused of robbing the diner.” Mila clarified.  
Phichit piped up, “Actually, we were. They caught us on camera and we got stopped on the way through Kentucky. We didn't get charged, though.” he smirked, “I suppose we had Yuuri’s eros to thank for that.”  
Viktor wrapped his arm tighter around his fiancé’s waist, nestling his chin into the man's shoulder, “I knew you had your own eros when I gave you that routine. Who knew you had to commit a felony to reveal it, hm?”  
“And that's not all. If you want to talk about Yuuri’s eros, we can't possibly leave out’”  
“Phiiiiii! We don't talk about him!”  
“Him?” Viktor stopped smirking.  
The rest of the litre group looked either fascinated or disgusted. Yuri was most definitely the latter.  
“I don't wanna hear about any of you geezers sex life, you hear?”  
“Oh, but you might want to hear about this guy. Maybe you've heard of him?”  
“Who?” Mila and Chris leaned in. Phichit’s eyes were twinkling dangerously again; his ex-roommate simply sighed and resigned himself with another sip of duty-free.  
“six-four, black emo fringe, leather jacket type. He's pretty good at singing. Even has a band. I'm basically the god of social media at this point; so I dug up that tweenage fan blog of yours, Yurio. I'm sure he'd be flattered.”  
“You don't mean…”  
“Yep, the one and only.”  
“Pig, you dated a rockstar?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any kudos and comments are very greatly appreciated; even if it's just a keyboard smash I love to hear from you!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	3. Author's note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's note

Hi guys, sorry this isn't another chapter (yet) but I'm having some technical difficulties with this fic showing up on the pages it's supposed to. 

I'll delete this note when I put the next chapter up.

Edit: I don't really want to delete this after all cause ao3 is liable to throw a fit and break my fic otherwise, and I am Useless and may not be able to fix it.

At least the new chapter's finally up -->


	4. The rockstar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Shows up late with Starbucks,  new chapter and no answers*
> 
> Hi guys! I am supremely sorry about the wait for this, hopefully I can make it up to you with this doozy of a chapter. Thank you so much to all the commentors, you all inspire me to keep writing :D
> 
> Bear in mind this is unbetad and any feedback is greatly appreciated.
> 
> Enjoy!

Old bookstores were an absolute godsend; particularly for a broke college student on a budget. The one nearest the Uni had an adorable, cosy aesthetic and chilled staff, who didn’t mind if you spent an afternoon curled up in an ancient armchair in a forgotten nook of the store, hiding from the pelting rain. If you ignored the prevailing smell of cannabis and must (the staff were likely chilled for a reason) then it was perfect.

 

And it was a little known fact that Yuuri Katsuki had a soft spot for the classics.

 

-o-

 

“You do?”

“Sure, Yurio. Some of us have hobbies outside of skating.”

“Boring ones.” he mumbled.

 

-o-

 

Ding!

Great. Honestly, it was as if strangers didn't realise that anyone spending a Wednesday evening amongst a hoard of ancient books wanted to avoid anyone who didn’t spend most of their working hours sat in a back room believing that $2 air freshener could disguise the smell of pot. Yuuri marked his page and replaced the book irritably; at least he didn’t have to worry about the book being bought before he could come back.

 

He never really understood how the place was still in business, really. Yuuri hadn’t actually seen anyone  _ buy  _ anything.

 

“Oh- Sorry, didn’t realise anyone was in here.”

“It’s fine, I was just leavi…” Oh. Oh wow. Yuuri froze stock still as he got an  _ amazing _ look at all six-foot-three of piercing blue eyes and ruffled, slightly damp black hair in front of him. He hadn’t anticipated the stranger being  _ cute _ . Stranger’s mouth twitched up at the corners, as if he’d heard that thought.

“So, uh… bookstore…” Yuuri stopped gawking and perked up. This guy was clearly either a bit slow or just as awkward as him.

“Yeees,” Yuuri said slowly, hedging his bets, “it is.”

The guy turned a little pink. “No, uh, it’s just… Y’know… What’s a guy like you doing here?”

_ At the moment? Feeling less awkward than I do on the ice, even. Poor guy. He makes me seem like a chat show host. _ “Reading? And apparently being badly chatted up by an adorable young-Tyson-Ritter wannabe. Whatevs, I’ll let it slide if you buy me a drink.” Yuuri draped himself appealingly over a conveniently placed armchair-

 

-o-

 

“ _ You did not.” _

“How do you know, Phi? You weren’t even there! It could have happened!” Phichit squinted at the Japanese skater, who had quite firmly established himself on his bemused and fascinated fiance’s lap, and was clearly more than halfway to becoming as sloshed as the cheap whiskey he was waving about. Chris, amazing everyone, actually stepped in to control the situation.

“Okay,” he giggled, clearly less than sober himself, “No more duty free for you, mister.”

“Noooo-”

“Oi, pig. We can’t hear the rest of the story if you’re passed out. Give him the damn glass.”

“And you, Yurochka, mind your damn language.” Yakov grumbled into his drink.

Viktor and Christophe managed to get Yuuri to give up his glass.  He humphed.

“I get it back once i’ve finished the story.”

“If you tell it properly.” Phichit sounded like he’d dealt with this type of drunk Yuuri many times before.

 

-o-

 

“Reading. I suppose you’re doing the same?”

The guy smiled, “Yep. I’ve never actually known anyone come in here to buy anything; it’s a wonder the place is still in business.” Yuuri returned the smile. It would be inexcusable to say they were on the same page- goddamnit.

“Any favourites…?”

“Yuuri. And I suppose you can’t go wrong with a classic. What about you…?

“Tom. And while I get the whole classics thing, don’t you think they get a little cliche? I mean, come on,” He grabbed a dusty volume from the shelf, “‘The mysterious case of Mr. Reinway’? You could see the ending from a  _ mile _ off.”

Tom was cute, but oh so misguided of he thought he could out-talk Yuuri when it came to the classics. The skater visibly relaxed; poor Tom was way out of his depth.

“That's just because everyone's already seen the story by the time they read it. Holt’s writing inspired  _ generations  _ of film writers.” Yuuri smiled. Maybe not all strangers deserved a half mile radius.

“Sure, but even for early eighteenth century writings, it's a little overdone. I mean, master and servant romance, a little miscommunication, he runs away… it reeks of Evelina.”

“But in this, the  _ Lord  _ runs away.”

“I've never been a fan of heteronormative storylines. It'd do most overbearing male characters a little good to be the one making the sacrifices from time to time.”

Yuuri hadn't noticed how close they'd gotten to each other, leaning into each other's words. He refused to admit that he'd underestimated this guy, but he definitely knew his romantic literature.

“Perhaps it would. But there's still merit in a little pride and prejudice.”

“Maybe,” Yuuri could feel the puff of air against his cheek, “but they all still give me great lyric ideas.”

 

-o-

 

“I can't believe you didn't realise I was into music!”

Yuuri allowed himself to be tugged by the hand through the house, grin as wide as his now sort-of-boyfriend’s.

“I mean, I even talked about lyrics when we met…”

“Shut up. I was too busy considering your hipster view of eighteenth century romantic novels. And besides, you never mentioned a  _ band _ .”

“Pish-posh. Come on, we're starting soon.”

They made through the small kitchen, through the patio doors and out into the garden, packed with teens under a warm summer evening. They'd formed a light crowd around a sort of stage, fashioned out of some scrap timber and what looked suspiciously like part of a neighbour's shed. Tom left Yuuri in the throng of people and jumped up, grabbing his guitar from a band mate and starting on the chord of one of his own songs.

_ “Been so lost, _

_ these confessions spinning round in my mind; _

_ Cheers to Aphrodite, _

_ you're one of a kind…” _

Yuuri didn't really care for music, but Tom seemed pretty good. The band played long into dusk, when the day became comfortable and warm, the hum of music stretching into the sky.

 

-o-

 

It was hot. Hot and sticky and messy and  _ amazing _ . Both of them panted into each others mouths; moving too fast to intertwine, and too breathless to say a word.

 

So they said nothing.

 

-o-

 

Tom was sweet. And hot. That was what Yuuri kept repeating to himself, curled up in a chair by the door. He hadn’t moved out of his Uni dorms, which he was eternally glad about; Tom’s band had taken off, and left him with enough cash to finally move out of his parents’ house and into a trendy uptown flat. Yuuri stayed there some nights, but nights like this made him thankful that he always had somewhere else to go. The only light came from the TV, mocking him by playing a delayed recording of the gig Tom’s band had been playing at. He’d left hours ago. Yuuri’d no idea where he was now.

 

He could leave. Go back to his dorm and curl up into Phi’s arms, and be soothed by the cooing of the Thai boy, three little hamsters and the promise that Phichit knows how to cut off a guy’s balls with just a box cutter and zipties.

 

_ “The box cutter is obvious,” Phi had explained one evening, after some arsehole jock had used some choice words to describe the skaters, “The zip ties are to stop him from bleeding to death. He’s supposed to suffer, not get off easy. Though I’m not sure he’ll be able to get off at all once I-” _

 

“And that was Tommy Gnosis, the new sensation, with his hit song “Aphrodite”.

“Honestly, I didn’t think a song could be a bop and an anthem at the same time!”

“Haha, it certainly is all that  _ and  _ lyrical genius; allegedly it was inspired by a special someone to Tommy Gnosis himself-”

 

The remote didn’t make nearly enough of a satisfying sound smacking against to pillow. Yuuri was seething. ‘Special someone’? He knew damn well the song was about him. No ‘special someone’ spent hours each night wondering where their boyfriend was, who he was with, whether he was coming back  _ at all. _ It wasn’t fucking fair.

 

As if to make some shitty excuse for himself, Tom finally stumbled into the flat, almost knocking over a coat stand. He managed to get as far as the bedroom door, struggling with the handle, without noticing his peeved boyfriend. Yuuri took a deep breath.

 

“Where were you?”

 

Tom jumped, squinting around in the darkness before finding a lightswitch. It didn’t seem to help him much. His gaze was unsteady, blue eyes unfocused.

 

“Mmh. Met a few friends n’...” he steadied himself against a chest of drawers, “went to… a bar.”

 

Clearly.

 

“Old friends?”

“Some old, some new.” Tom tried taking his shoes off with his feet, and became dangerously close to falling over. “What’s it matter to you?”

“Because,” started the skater, moving towards him, “Your ‘new friends’ don’t seem to be good for you. It matters because I was sat here for  _ hours _ wondering when you were coming back - if you were coming back at all?”

“Babe, chill. My friends aren’t any of your business, okay? Quit… y’know…”

“Quit what? Worrying? Caring?” The Japanese man rubbed his eyes. It was late, he needed to stop. His training would suffer, and he knew it. “Listen; I’m not going to tell you who you can and can’t see; that's not right. But - but have some thought. I can’t keep waiting for you. I can’t keep sitting here like some soldier’s wife without even a call or a text.”

 

It never used to be like this. They said that fame changed people, but it shouldn’t have been like this.

Tom didn’t seem to be listening.

 

“Tom?”

“Fine. Fine, fine… How ‘bout you… come with us, next time, yeah? Then you’ll see that it’s fine. Fiiiiine....”

Yep, definitely time for bed.

 

Yuuri slept on the sofa instead.

 

-o-

 

The mood in the old games room had dropped a little. The others were still completely enraptured in the story, but Yuuri felt Viktor’s arm a little tighter around his waist, saw how wide Yurio’s eyes had become. Chris and Mila were open mouthed, and Otabek’s eyebrows were furrowed. Yakov seemed to look at him with pity. Or was it understanding?

 

“Um… yeah.” Having sobered up somewhat, Yuuri felt a little more self-conscious. The fire still crackled away; someone must’ve put another log on there without him noticing.

 

“That sucks.” Yurio, bless him, broke the silence. “ _ Please _ tell me you kicked his ass. Or got Chulanont to…” He made a cutting motion, “with the boxcutter. That guy was a douche.”

 

Suddenly Phichit was smirking. 

“Nope. It was better than that. Yuuri, you miss out the best bits! Tell them about…”

 

-o-

 

Neon lights pulsed to the beat of the crowd, some bad techno song playing on repeat. Yuuri had thought scenes like this only belonged in bad movies, but no. Rich wads’ discos were just rubbish IRL. This wasn’t even worth the free drinks, and for a college student, that was saying something. Instead, he kept to the sides of the room and checked his phone again. Nothing.

 

_ Yuuri: Where r u? _

_ Tom: Popped outside for a smoke. brb. _

_ Yuuri: u smoke? _

 

Fantastic. Yuuri had tried not to be pissy, he really had, but he was stuck is a hot, humid room with a hundred people he didn’t know and was about as close with Mr. I’m-famous-now-so-that-excuses-my-shitty-behaviour as he could be asleep in his dorm.

He phoned. It rang twice then went through to voicemail.

 

_ Tom: Shitty signal. Don’t bother calling. _

 

Alright then. Yuuri started pushing his way through the crowd, towards the open patio doors. He’d had enough. This wasn’t a relationship, this was a fling gone fuckways, and he’d be damned if he didn’t go through all this not to get even.

 

He put a reminder in his phone. It buzzed onto his screen a second later.

 

_ Men ain’t shit. _

 

He found his about-to-be-ex where he said he’d be, for once, outside. The man seemed to be enjoying himself without Yuuri plenty, if the busty blonde with her hand down his pants was any indication.

 

“Shit-” Tom pushed the girl off as soon as he saw the skater, but he may as well not have bothered, for all the help it did. Yuuri, surprising even himself, wasn’t that pissed to find him cheating. He realised in a moment of sudden clarity that he didn’t care. Whatever they’d had died along with Yuuri’s respect for the singer. They hadn’t been anywhere near  _ love _ , and if Tom thought Yuuri was dependent enough upon him to pull this kind of shit and get away with it, he was sorely mistaken. It was lucky he’d chosen to wear flats that night, it would make what he had planned a hell of a lot easier.

 

“Baby, I thought you were insi-”

“Save it, asshole. I suppose it’s good you’ve found someone else to fuck around with; It’s not as if I’m letting you put your barely average dick anywhere near me again.”

That impressed the growing crowd around them. Tom still seemed to think he could salvage things.

“Listen, Yuuri, you’re overreacting. There’s only so much of me, y’know? This jealous stuff is seriously uncool. You need to chill a little.” He glanced at the other partygoers as he spoke, as if trying to gauge the crowd for their approval instead. Yuuri almost laughed; the guy didn’t seem to realise how much he didn’t care.

 

So he did the one thing he knew would irritate the wannabe most.

 

“Bye then. If you need me, write a fucking song about it. I’m not listening.” He didn’t bother looking for his reaction. Yuuri walked back inside-

 

-o-

 

“Strutted.”

“What?”

“Strutted. You strutted, Yuuri. I saw the videos.” The Thai boy smirked, picking at his nails absentmindedly.

 

-o-

 

Yuuri strutted back inside, grabbed a karaoke mic, a drink, one of the poles in the middle of the room, and the crowd’s attention.

 

“I got, shivers, when you touch my face… I’ll make you hot get all you got I’ll make you wanna say…”

 

-o-

 

“You did not!” Mila squeaked.

“I did, but then I blacked out. I don’t really remember anything else.”

“He did,” echoed Phichit, “but I didn’t hear about it until it was too late. The videos are lost to us.” He feigned wiping a tear away. “I do, however, have a very nice copy of Tommy shitbag’s response.” He dug his phone out of his pockets and plugged something in, pointing at the blank expanse of beige wall above the fire. A video was projected onto the surface, showing a teary eyed young man in black lycra and smudged eyeliner.

“Oh, this is the Foreigner cover he did,” Yurio supplied.

_ “You’re as cold as ice _

_ You're willing to sacrifice our love _ _   
_ _ You never take advice _ _   
_ _ Someday you'll pay the price, I know _ _   
_ _ I've seen it before _ _   
_ _ It happens all the time _ _   
_ _ Closing the door _ _   
_ __ You leave the world behind…”

The music video panned around a staged flat, zooming in on an obvious pair of skates by the door.

“Wow.” Otabek was staring at the video with disbelief. Even Viktor, dramatic as he was, cringed.

“That’s not even the worst of it.” Phichit clicked another video.

_ “Dorm Room boy, _

_ I loved you from the start…”  _ a soulful hook accompanied the camera as it panned over a wall of flags, the singer lying on the floor in front of them. It hovered for just a second too long over a Japanese flag. Phi skipped ahead a minute or so; the video showed Tommy Gnosis rummaging through a box of polaroids, all showing him with a shorter, blackhaired figure facing away from the camera.

“That bit’s creepiest,” Yuuri shivered, “None of those photos are real. Either they brought someone in to look like me, or they were photoshopped.”

“Ew.” It sounded as if Yurio had some music to delete from his phone. Phichit managed one more link before his weak data connection gave up, the song buffering. ‘A Letter to Mr. Runaway’ loaded in bold beneath the video.

“Is that a reference to-”

“Yep,” Yuuri interrupted Chris, who was staring thoughtfully at the projection. “I can’t believe he even remembered that. Looking back, I guess he was really torn up about what happened.”

“He deserved to be.” Phichit sniffed. Yurio agreed.

“You know… I ended up having to take some really weird measures to avoid him before his manager made him go on tour to avoid a lawsuit.”

Phi started giggling. “You remember that year we were worried we’d see him at a party, so we stuck to all the sorority girls only parties? That was amazing…”

Chris suddenly looked as if his birthday and Christmas had come at once, or at least, that would have been a good simile had Yuuri not seen someone have his birthday and christmas all at once (Viktor, it seemed, was not impressed at having to share his birthday with another celebrity. Yuuri argued that Jesus was a little beyond a celebrity at that point). The swiss skater was grinning ear to ear.

“Mon amie,  _ how on earth  _ did two young men get into a  _ girls only _ event, hmm?”

“Shit.” Yuuri swore, looking at Phichit for inspiration. Phi didn’t help.

“Well, I suppose we better tell you about Yuriko and Pippa, shouldn’t we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but maybe it'll grow on me? 
> 
> Any feedback, a keyboard smash or a hello is greatly appreciated, so come talk to me down below :)
> 
> Next time, we find out just how in touch our Detroit boys are with their feminine sides...


	5. Here come the girls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> Sorry about the enormous wait, exams are hell.  
> I hope you enjoy!  
> Kudos and feedback are greatly appreciated.
> 
>  
> 
> Is it just me, or are these chapters getting longer...?

“No.”

“Aww, come on Yuuri! We haven't been out in  _ ages! _ ”

Yuuri lay in a comfortable burrito blanket. Burritos didn't have to go out and bump into people they didn't like. Burritos were impervious to the crippling weight of social expectations.

“I promise we won't see him.”

“You can't promise that.” the burrito argued. Phichit sighed and flopped down on to bed next to his friend. He loved him, but his friend was being silly. If they  _ did  _ run into anyone Yuuri didn’t want, Phichit still had his zip ties handy. 

 

Yuuri grumbled to himself from under the blanket. Phichit always ended up convincing Yuuri to do the  _ worst  _ things while the two of them were sat on his dorm room bed. The space must be tainted with the aura of so many bad college students’ decisions from years gone by. Ten words from his Thai roommate, however, stopped him from working out the logistics of Collective Spiritual Miasmas and their Effect on the Naïve College Student (dissertation in the bag), with an offer too good to ignore.

 

“What if I bet you $20 that I could.” hmm. Interesting. The blanket burrito rolled over to see if Phichit really meant it.

“I’m serious; $20 says I take us to a party and we don’t bump into a single ex of yours. I promise.”

“I trusty your money better than your word.” muttered Yuuri, slowly unravelling himself from his duvet.

“I would pretend to be offended, but that sounds like a yes and that means we have work to do. Get up!”

 

-o-

 

Shopping was exhausting. They’d been in about 30 shops, and Yuuri still had no idea what Phi was buying, let alone how he was paying for it. He shuddered at the thought of Phichit’s credit card statement. So much for saving for a car.

 

Waiting outside  _ another _ changing room, the Japanese skater tried in vain to make sense of his roommate; their impromptu shopping spree didn’t seem to be connected to their bet, and if it was then he was sure Phichit had spent a lot more than $20 trying to win. What’s more, most of the places they’d been in seemed to target themselves towards women. It wasn’t the first time either of them had bought anything traditionally feminine (if Yuuri wanted to smell like petrol and pain, he’d try and get run over at a gas station, thank you very much), but it was the first time Phichit had tried to amass enough lace and glitter to make even the most hardened drag queen jealous.

 

Uh-oh. ‘Drag’ was a dangerous word to throw around.  _ Surely  _ Phi wouldn’t expect them to-

 

“TADA!”

 

Yes, yes he would. The Thai boy had thrown back the cubicle curtain to unveil all 5’5 of him decked out in a gorgeous deep red satin shift dress. It was sleeveless, and stopped mid-thigh, showing off his long, toned legs and black caged heels. To Yuuri’s surprise (as if he wasn’t surprised enough) the bust of the dress had been filled out with something, and despite the ungodly amount of time Phichit’d spent in the changing room, he hadn’t quite had enough time to sprout a pair of tits.

 

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” he smoothed the fabric with his hands.

“Nice? It’s amazing! But what did you…?”

“Oh. Stuffed bra.” Yuuri still looked confused. He knew because he could see himself in the mirror behind his friend. Ew, why did his forehead look so- “Turns out I’m a size 38 B. UK sizing of course, the internet says never to trust American. I could probably pull off a C,” he turned around to rummage about with his bra in the mirror, “But it turns out that a folded up training shirt just about fits in a B. C’s one and a half shirts and I can’t afford to cut one up.” Phichit finally turned back to Yuuri. “So, what do you think?”

“Of the dress? You look gorgeous, Phi, though I'm pretty sure your credit card company is having a stroke about now.”

“No, silly. Of my plan.”

Yuri frowned. “You'll have to elaborate on that…”

His friend sighed as he reached into a shopping bag in Yuuri’s arms, pulling out another dress. It was just longer than his own, with a flared skirt and lace pattern on the bust. Powder blue and smooth to the touch, the bodice and skirt were formed from the same panels of fabric, the absence of a seam at the waist giving the dress a sleek look.

“It's a skater dress. I thought it was appropriate, y’know?” He smirked, breaking the slight state of awe Yuuri had gone into while staring at the dress. “Plus ya gotta show off them arms, boi!” Phi gave the dress a little shimmy for emphasis.

“So we're dressing up as girls?”

Phichit rolled his eyes, “Wearing a dress doesn't discern anyone's gender. But we’re trying to fool thickheaded frat jocks that we're in a sorority. So yes, we are using garments traditionally associated with femininity in order to pass as female.”

“And…?”

“And get into a sorority party to make sure we don't bump into any of your string of broken hearts.”

Yuuri cringed. “Please don't quote his song lyrics; they're embarrassing enough.”

“I can and I will. To the tills!”

 

-o-

 

“Do you still have the dress?” Viktor had been unusually quiet so far, making him all the more conspicuous.

“Huh?”

“The dress. Do you still have it?”

Yurio pulled a face, “Ew.”

The Japanese man flushed, but didn't say anything. Viktor smiled into his fiancé’s shoulder.

 

-o-

 

They were halfway to what Phichit assured him was ‘the biggest sorority party this year, Yuuri, nobody’'ll notice a couple more sisters’, when Yuuri realised they might have a problem, makeup looking fierce and enough black hair extensions to cosplay Cousin It. The two of them had worn light makeup and eyeliner before, but this had been the first time Yuuri had been told lean back and let someone ‘bake’ his face.

 

“It'll make the  _ world _ of difference,” phichit assured him, rolling out more makeup brushes from fuck-knows-where like a surgeon preparing to operate, “trust me, Yuuri.”

 

They looked fine, and could each get away with pitching their voices carefully, but the Japanese skater realised that they didn't actually have an alias.

 

“Nobody's going to ask us about ourselves. It's a  _ party _ . But I suppose it couldn't hurt… how about Yuuko and Philippa?”

“I have a friend called Yuuko,” said Yuuri, “and nobody under 60 is called Philippa. How about Yuriko?”

“What about me?”

Yuuri thought for a second. “Pippa? It's kinda cute.”

“Perfect for me then.”

“Yeah, the perfect disguise.”

“You wound me.”

Giggling, they walked up to the house. Two burly jocks stood on the porch, smoking; the music and noise inside indicated that the party was in full swing.

_ Of course _ , thought Yuuri.  _ Of course this wouldn't be that easy _ .

The jocks walked towards the skaters, smelly cigarettes in hand. To both of their surprise, however, they didn't seem to be looking for a fight.

“Hi, gorgeous,” smiled one, “haven't seen you before. I don't even think Charlie over there-” he gestured towards his friend- “has had the pleasure. And that's saying something.”

The Japanese skater tried to think of something clever to say; he really didn't think emphasising just how unattracted he was to either him or ‘Charlie’ - regardless of how many unfortunate women they'd slept with - was a wise move. Neither of them was carrying anything larger than the  _ tiny _ purses that Phichit swore ‘brought the look together’, and Yuuri was pretty sure that Phi had forgotten to pack his boxcutter  _ or  _ zip ties. He needn't have worried.

“I'm sorry,” phichit cut in smoothly, in an impressively convincing  female voice, “but neither my friend nor I are fluent in  _ pfffft _ .” He blew a raspberry. With that, he grabbed his friend's arm and led him into the house, jocks suitably distracted for a second.

“Whatever, slut!” came a voice from behind them. “You and your whore friend probably gape wider than a fuckin… A fuckin…” his vocabulary appeared to have run out. “SKANKS!”

“Go and whine to your masculinity issues, you mouldy grape!” came Phichit’s reply. Yuuri cringed, that felt like something out of  bad early 2000s chick flick. At least they were in.

 

A few free drinks and songs later, the two of them were a little past tipsy - along with the rest of the crowd. The party seemed to be made up mostly of women dressed much in the same way as them, so they didn't stand out too much, at least. Yuuri smiled to himself. Maybe he'd owe Phi that $20 after all. At least, it looked that way before sod’s law decided to throw another curveball their way.

 

“Ohmygod, hiiiiiiiii! I love your dress!” they turned, to see a gaggle of most definitely drunk girls. Yuuri and Phi shared a look, trying to work out which of them the ringleader was talking to.

“You guys look soooo good!” the other girls nodded a little too enthusiastically - yep, definitely drunk.

“Uh, thanks?” the girls seemed nice, and it didn't seem like Yuuri and Phi’s cover was blown. “You guys look great, too.”

“Aww,” a few of the girls said in unison. Most of them were swaying to the music, with the exception of one near the back of the group, who was happily headbanging to the near and waving a bottle of Malibu above her head, completely out of it. “Hey, you two should join us! We're going to the…. The….” she frowned and turned to a friend for help. “bigish room, made of glass?”

“Greenhouse?”

“Nononono, where Aimee and Keira said they'd be playing Cards Against Humanity.”

“Oh, the conservatory.” helpfully supplied another girl.

“Yeah!”

Phichit and Yuuri glanced at each other again. Yuuri tried as best he could to convey ‘Please can we not, I already have a bottle of Smirnoff shoved up my skirt so we can leave instead’, but apparently his skills were lacking. Phichit gave him a little bit, and for a moment the Japanese skater believed that he might finally have mastered telepathy and his friend had understood.

“Sure, that sounds fun!”

Apparently not. They were ushered across the house into the other room, where another crowd of drunk sorority sisters had already made a circle and were dealing out cards. They all happily made room for each other, shuffling around until they were all happy that everyone was included. That was nice.

_ Usually it's a good night when nobody gets dropkicked through the drywall,  _ thought Yuuri.  _ Boys are such assholes. _

 

The first girl introduced herself properly. Her name was Katy, spelt like Katy Perry and not with an ie like her 3rd grade teacher kept spelling it (as she explained in great detail), and her green sequined dress was shiny like a shiny shiny mermaid fish thing (as one of her inebriated friends explained in great detail). “What about you two?”

“Uh…”

“I'm Pippa, and this is my bestie Yuriko.” Phichit took over smoothly.

“Okay, so…” every girl in a couple metre radius pointed in unison, moving like a litter of kittens watching a game of tennis. “This is Anya,” they pointed at a blonde girl in yellow, who waved back, “Becky, Rachel, Keisha, Ivy, Katy,” the girl in green smiled, “Lissy, Taylor,” they pointed back at the bemused roommates, “Pippa and Yuriko!”

A small cheer from the rest of the room drew them back to the game. After a few rounds, one of the girls - Rachel, Yuuri thought - leaned over his shoulder.

“Can I plait your hair? It’s really pretty.”

Normally Yuuri wouldn't have minded, but he was pretty conscious that most of his ‘hair’ had been bought and painstakingly clipped in by his roommate a few hours before, and so was liable to come off if messed with too much. Rachel interrupted his inner dilemma with a small smile. “Don't worry, I'll be careful with your extensions,” she lifted part of her own hair to show him a row of little clips just like his, “Cassie over there's wearing a wig, as well-”

“DON'T YOU KNOW IT, GIRL!” Cassie shouted from across the room. “BALD HEADED BITCH FOR LIFE!”

Yuuri giggled, enjoying himself more than he could remember in a while.

“Okay then.”

 

-o-

 

_ Ugh… _

“-uriko?”

_ Huh? _

“Yuriko?”

Yuuri sat up, head throbbing. After drinking as much as he had, he was prepared to wake up anywhere. To his surprise, he was tucked into a bed, with his clothes  _ on. _ Phi was passed out next to him, another couple of (fully clothed) girls with smudged makeup lay intertwined on the other side of him. Looking around what must have been one of the girls’ bedroom, he saw several more of their new friends wrapped up warmly in blankets as the early morning sun peeked out from behind the closed blinds. Katy stood at the foot of the bed, still in her dress, with her heels and hair extensions draped over one arm, offering him a mug and some painkillers.

“Here. I'm pretty sure you're as hungover as me,” he took the mug and pills gratefully. “It's okay if you don't want the meds; I wouldn't take anything I was offered by someone I met at a party. But I promise they're just aspirin.” she smiled and sat at the end of the bed. Smiling in return, Yuuri reached up to rub his tired eyes, only to pass his hand over his chest.

 

His perfectly flat chest.

 

_ Shit. _

 

Katy noticed his panic. 

“Hey, it's fine,” he looked up at her in disbelief. “I know about it. One of your tits fell out halfway through the macarena.” she gestured to a balled up t-shirt on the floor. “And, for the record, it's okay. It's none of my business to interrogate you about your life. We all had great fun with you guys. Besides, Keisha’s boyfriend is on the ice hockey team. He recognised your gorgeous ass from a drunken Snapchat video and vouched for you two, so yeah.”

“Thank you.” Yuuri meant it.

“It's no problem at all. Us girls need to stick together.” she winked.

 

-o-

 

“Can you confirm?” Chris asked Phichit. The Thai boy had lost his gleeful smirk and now looked thoughtful.

“I was passed out, remember? Seems about right though; that wasn't the last time we went to a sorority party with those girls.”

 

The fire crackled as Otabek there on another log.

“ _ I _ wanted to do that.” complained Yuri. Otabek murmured something back into the blond's ear.

 

“So, nobody has any comments about the Phichit and I dressing up as girls and going to a sorority party?”

“At this point,” Yakov announced, taking another swig of his drink, “I have known enough dramatic teenagers to no longer be surprised.”

Mila piped up, “You two should come clubbing with my friends and I!”

“ _ What friends? _ ” came a mumble from near the fireplace. Yuri had suspiciously broken eye contact with the the rest of the group.

 

After a short silence, Phichit picked his phone up again, green hamster case glinting in the warm glow from the fire.

“There's still no signal, mon amie.”

“I know… I was just checking to see if I still had some pictures…”

“Pictures of what?” Viktor suddenly perked up. “You and Yuuri dressed up?”

Phi, Yuuri, Yurio, and (surprisingly) Yakov gave him a look.

“No, you closet perv. They were from a couple of advertisements Yuuri did a few years back.”

“I thought the pig didn't do any ads?” Yurio frowned.

“Aww; you're a fan of his, aren't you!” Mila squeaked, clapping her hands together.

“Shut up, hag! Go send some fuckwad hockey player a dick pic or something.”

“Oh,  _ come on  _ Yura; How else would you know how many ads he’s done?”

“Obviously he can't have done any. They don't broadcast in cinemascope!”

Phi gasped. “And a  _ Hairspray  _ fan too! Anyway,” he continued, ignoring whatever scathing retort the blond tried to deliver, “Yuuri  _ didn't  _ do any ads.”

“How come?”

“ _ Don’t encourage him, Beka- _ ”

“I just don't like appearing in adverts,” the Japanese skater explained, wringing his hands from his fiancé’s lap. “They feel stupid. And embarrassing.”

Chris reached over to pat his arm. “To be honest, I've seen some weird Japanese adverts on YouTube. I can sympathise.”

“Well, it wasn't just that.” Yuuri seemed to be struggling to find the right words. “Ads are just… Seeing myself and having - Other people as well…”

Viktor nuzzled into his shoulder. “It's a bit much?”

“Yeah.” he smiled back gratefully.

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what led to  _ this! _ ”

 

In triumph, that Thai skater plugged his phone back into his little projector. Displayed on the dingy walls was what looked to be a very pink billboard advertising a type of lipstick; the background showed up peach against marigold paintwork. To the right of the main ad, a beautiful young Japanese woman gazed coyly at the camera, warm brown eyes wide and delicately made up lips parted gently. Yuuri buried his head in his hands. Yuri turned almost plum.

 

“FUCKING MODELLING?!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I'm running out of ideas for this fic, and so am now accepting prompts! Just head over to my Tumblr @vityamins-official and send me a message if you have an idea you'd like me to write for it.
> 
> I'm also thinking about joining in for the yoi omegaverse week (starting 18th) so talk to me about that if you'd like :)
> 
> I've made my Tumblr much more active now, so I'll be posting teasers of future chapters, projects and prompts there.
> 
> As always, please talk to this loser in the comments; it validates me as a human.
> 
> Til next time!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> I'm hoping to make this into a series, so comment if you'd like to see more, or just want to say hi!  
> (Please I need to be loved and validated)
> 
> If you liked this, I'm also on tumblr at @vityamins-official


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